day 22

I have a vision of a train, that runs through tunnels and tunnels of various dreams.
In between each tunnel, is an open space, and the train will slow down or speed past,
depending on the mood and circumstance of the captain.
The tunnels themselves are usually dark, with occasional flashes of red, green or blue.
So much for the tunnels. One does not dwell there for long. It is like a transitional space-time.

The open spaces, which interest me more, are nightmarish, mysterious and amusing. They can be gory, temptatious, lustrous, playful, joyous, nostalgic, and most of all fleeting. But if it so pleases me, I can stop at each interval. I invite the people and animals I see. I hold parties and tea sessions with them. I can also persuade the train to run faster, as I hide in my cabin, as the ghouls, zombies, werewolves, aliens and vampires search for me. The landscape always changes. I find white caps of mountains, the great canopies of forests and commercial buildings, rows of wineyards, barren deserts, vast oceans and breaking waves, starry night and shooting stars, men in arms, men in beaches, or just empty space.

>>DARK TUNNEL>>

This particular space, which I would like to talk about, consists of a white room, a pillar in the middle, and an odd looking marble that refuses to stop running. I chase after it, seeing how elusive it is to me. Perhaps, it is because it runs (ever so quickly but eloquently) that curiously I see something in it and of it, that reminds me of myself.

"Hop on my train, will you?" I ask. "I have nice books that I can tell stories to you with."

It does not respond so I take a step forward in anticipation of it coming near enough for me to grab.

But it stops.

It then jumps into the train, just as the train screams its whistle of departure. I follow the marble and I begin my search for it again. But there it is, in the cabin I hid earlier, as I entered the last dark tunnel, after a series of panic attacks. Now. Somehow, as the light shines in, the marble reflected a brilliant glow of rainbow colours and sparkles. And in a distant, which seems to come from the white room, a gentle lullaby flows into the train cabin. The captain, on hearing the tune, falls into a deep slumber, waiting for the song to end, giving the marble and I some time, as long as possible, to know each other. I didn't need to grab it. I can't.

I am a marble too.

We are bubbles too.

>>DARK TUNNEL>>